paint those reliable tones
earth and sky, dark and light,
shadows placed where they belong.
The future song is spring and fall and all
expected seasons in their place.
Brown grass confirms the need
for rain and sun to take it back
and warm the fallow fields;
another season, a gentle reason
understood in our compliant hearts.
are heroes and our song
echoes in the infinite night sky,
because we wish it so, because
we wish it so and surrender
like a burnished leaf
fluttering in the wind as it moves
from branch to root.
are larger than the full night sky,
more subtle than the earth-brushed tones.
Rain moistens our dry tongue
and shadows are smaller
because the sun is always high.